Last night was awful. I have my white flag out and surrender.
I was nervous about going to my first class at the gym. The class turned out to be the least of my worries. I got home from the gym around seven, and it was 56 degrees in my apartment. I looked at the thermostat and it was set to 69. Noooo. The heat was out. I called my brother (who does HVAC) and he talked me through things. We narrowed down the problem and he told me I needed to call my landlord.
While my landlord was on his way, I decided to make dinner. I set up my tiny space heater in the kitchen, but I blew a fuse. Ugh. I went to the basement to reset the fuse and as I came back up stairs my smoke alarm went off. Dinner is burning! I shut dinner off and jump up to hit the button on the smoke alarm to shut it off. It shut off, but the whole thing also fell from the ceiling and broke. Come on!
The landlord came and couldn't fix the heat. He needed a part that he will get today. He managed to rig the heat for a while to get the temperature back up and left me with a really big space heater. I was nervous all night about the space heater catching something on fire. It's not like the smoke alarm could tell me the place is on fire, because, oh yeah, I broke it.
This morning, my mom called at 7:15. I don't get up till 7:30. I was angry for the premature wake up. I moved the space heather into my bathroom to keep warm and get ready. I tried to make coffee. More fuses were blown. I said forget it and went to Starbucks.
I'm sort of done with things for the moment. I just hope to go home to a warm apartment.